


Fatherhood

by kittybenzedrine



Series: Timelines [30]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Not Incest, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 06:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: A little bit more modern parenting from Leo. His step-daughter Rachel is a little shit, but it's his own fault. She probably picked it up from him.Some cutesy "through the years" kind of stuff._____All pieces of the Timelines series are standalones and can be read without context.





	Fatherhood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChiaraC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaraC/gifts).



> More step-daddy Leo because I was asked. Probably not what you meant by a sequel, but also... Cutesy bonding, you know?
> 
> Instead of replying to your comment like a normal human being, I wrote a fucking fic instead.

"I should only be gone for like, twenty minutes max. She should stay asleep at least until I get back."

Leo nods, gives Renee a kiss before letting her go. He would have gone to the store to get medicine for Rachel, but he doesn't know what kind to get and Renee doesn't have the old box to show him. So he sits back in the living room with his phone, picks up one of Renee's trash vampire romance novels to pass the time.

Not five minutes later, he hears the muffled sounds of crying from the hallway. Leo tilts his head, scratches at his bunned hair as the sound gets closer. Alright, he's not hallucinating.

Rachel's favorite mermaid pajamas have vomit down the front of them with he meets her in the hall. She makes the universal gesture for "up", but at least waits for him to undo the tiny buttons and get the pajama shirt off. He scoops her up with one arm and backtracks to the laundry room to toss the shirt straight into the washer.

Mercifully, Rachel doesn't wipe her mouth on his bare shoulder. Leo wets a paper towel and gently mops the last traces of sick from her face before bringing her to the living room with him. Poor kid looks like shit, all sweaty and sniffly. He sits back in the recliner, careful not to squish the little foot curled against the back of his ribcage.

She's boiling against his bare chest. He wipes away her tears with his thumb as gently as he can, taking care not to poke her with his long nails. Fuck, the kid barely lets him touch her, let alone pick her up. She's got to be feeling extra bad to willingly ask him for "up", or to let him cradle her to his chest like a baby. Rachel doesn't feel much warmer than she did earlier, at least. Leo hopes the fever doesn't climb, because the last thing he wants is to take a sleep-deprived, sick three-year-old to the emergency room.

Rachel's zoned out when he looks down at her, her little fingers idly curling in his sparse chest hair. Shifting her in just the slightest, he gently works his fingers at the base of her skull, trying not to catch on the knots in her unkempt mess of curls.

She relaxes against him almost instantly, mostly calmed other than the occasional hiccupy breath. Not too long after, she starts to droop. Renee finds them like that when she gets back, with Leo massaging Rachel's scalp, and Rachel asleep and starting to drool on his chest.

 

 

"Alright, now pour the vinegar. _Slow._ "

Leo looks down at the little clay volcano that he spent entirely too long making. It took a full day to sculpt, and he spent nearly two days painting it to look semi-realistic. But Rachel wanted something cool to do for her kindergarten class' show and tell, and frankly Leo isn't going to pass up an opportunity to get creative. Or to show off. 

She saw something on the TV about the chemical reaction between vinegar and baking soda and got excited about it, wanted to try it, and who is he to tell her no? At least she's interested in something that isn't naptime and getting into things she shouldn't.

Rachel gazes down into the hollow volcano, looking inquisitively at the few tablespoon of baking soda that Leo measured into it. She's got the small cup of vinegar in her hand, and though she was already given the affirmative, she turns her eyes to him.

"Pour it?"

He nods. "Pour it slowly."

Leo catches the mischievous smile as she turns back around and dumps it all in before he can move. "Rachel-!"

She laughs, loud and maniacal, as the mixture reacts and sprays all over the kitchen table. Leo takes her by the shoulders, lightly rubs them as he has to tamp down the urge to strangle his step-daughter.

 

 

"Throw me."

Leo glances back at Renee, who shrugs as she uses the pool edge to keep herself propped back up. She loosely gestures for him to carry on.

"Throw me!" Rachel demands yet again, paddling up to him. She gets a grip on his shoulders and lightly kicks her feet to keep afloat.

"How... far?" he asks, getting his hands under her armpits. It's not going to be hard, the kid weighs like fifty pounds soaking wet (heh), but he also doesn't want to accidentally toss her further than she wants.

She roughly traces one of the tattoos on his right shoulder and shrugs. "I dunno. Far?"

How helpful.

Leo isn't a man accustomed to feeling fear. But when he hefts her out of the water and towards the deep end of the pool, he feels pure _fear_. She's going too far and too high, squealing and flailing as she sails towards the concrete on the other side. His stomach drops, and Renee lets out a sound of horror from behind him. Fuck fuck fuck, if his wife doesn't murder him first he's going to go to prison for accidently killing his step-daughter, he's seen a lot of dead bodies but there's something different seeing one you love-

Rachel lands in the water.

After a moment of dead silence on the pool area, she resurfaces, laughing loud as she reaches for the pool edge that she was six inches away from being splattered on. She wipes the wet hair from her face, not noticing all the sighs of relief or the way her parents look like they're going to puke.

"Do it again, Leo, do it again!"

 

 

Leo always knows something is very, very wrong when Rachel calls him "dad". She barely acknowledges him as a parental figure, calls him "my mom's husband" as opposed to "step-father". So when he hears that tiny squeak of "Dad", it sets his teeth on edge.

She's digging her heels into the carpet of the shops floor, body language screaming that there's danger. Some man has her by the arm, roughly trying to coax her towards the door that leads out to the rest of the mall.

Everything he's holding is suddenly on the counter, and he crosses the floor in three long strides. He scoops her up while getting the man's grip from around her wrist. Her arm is a deep red where the stranger was holding her, his print dark enough that it looks like it's going to bruise. She's shaking like a leaf, her tiny hands gripped into his shirt and jacket.

The guy looks panicked, tries in vain to get out of Leo's hold. Leo squeezes the man's wrist hard enough that he can feel the bones beginning to separate.

"Tell me, are you stupid or did you just particularly want to die today?"

The man sputters something that Leo doesn't care to decipher. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see mall security taking notice and making a beeline for them.

"You're very, very lucky my daughter is right here, otherwise I'd tell you exactly what I want to do to you, _and then I'd do it,_ " Leo says in a low voice. He's killed people before, that's a given when you work with shady folk. There's plenty he'd like to do to this man, and it could be settled pretty easily with just a pair of pliers and a decently sharpened knife.

Security reaches them right about the time that Rachel starts to cry, and Leo holds her just a little tighter.

 

 

The house is dead silent by 8pm, which is strange because it's never quiet before 10. The stench of foul tempers hangs heavy in the air, thick enough to choke.

Renee and Rachel have gone at it again today. Rachel's been getting in trouble at school every day for the past few weeks, and Renee has gotten sick of it. She's sick of the daily calls home and the weekly parent-teacher conferences. With their too-similar personalities, the argument between the two women quickly devolved into a screaming match which led to Rachel's subsequent grounding.

Leo's of the opinion that Rachel's too smart to be in this grade level. Rachel's more than likely getting in trouble because she's bored. She's not getting enough work, not being stimulated enough, there's not enough of a challenge, so she acts out because she's fucking _bored_

Renee doesn't want her to skip a grade, though. She's worried Rachel won't be able to keep up, or that she'll be missing too much because she didn't learn it due to skipping that previous grade. Or that she'll be bullied because she's a couple years younger.

It's bullshit, though. Rachel is smart as hell. Bullying won't be a problem, because he won't punish her for defending herself with her fists. She gets straight A's down the board, always the first to turn her work in. But again, she gets bored and acts out because there's nothing else to do. Renee can't see that, apparently, even though she admits to being the same way when she was younger.

He taps on the door, quiet enough that Renee can't hear it from across the house. Rachel's in her pajamas already, sour faced when they meet eye. Leo cracks her door open a little further and jingles his car keys. Hopefully he's being quiet enough.

"Look, I know that parents are supposed to be a united front on things, but your mother is in the wrong and I think it's ridiculous that you're being punished. Put on your shoes, you and I are going out for ice cream."

Rachel frowns, squints like she trying to decide if this is a trick or not. "You can't have milk."

He jingles his keys a little more impatiently. Renee is the one who will have to deal with the ~~stench~~ after effects of his lactose intolerance. "Ice cream. Let's go."

Renee isn't happy with she calls twenty minutes later wondering where the fuck the two of them are.

 

 

"No."

In the back seat, Rachel sniffles harder and audibly begins to cry. Leo grips the steering wheel, teeth grit while she asks him "please?" in a voice that gets smaller and smaller the longer that he ignores her.

"Please, dad?"

He clenches his jaw harder, eyes very heavily focused on the road as he pointedly says nothing. Rachel's crying begins to quiet when she realizes that they're not on the usual path to home. Kid's observant, at least.

Her stare burns into him as he parks on the side of the street. He leaves the keys in the ignition as he gets out. He won't be gone long.  
_____

"What is that?" Renee asks, watching Rachel waddle in behind Leo with a beat up stray cat in her arms.

"A cat. Where's the old pet carrier?"

"Why is there a cat?"

Rachel plops down on the floor, letting the cat begin aggressively grooming her. Leo crosses to his wife, feeling a headache starting to build.

"She _guilted_ me. We both know I'm lacking certain emotions, and guilt should be one of those emotions. Rachel somehow instilled a fucking guilt reflex in me, and I don't like it. Now where's that fucking cat carrier? That thing's a male and I am _not_ letting it stay here until it's fixed."

Renee lightly touches his arm, looking both amused and concerned. She's wanted another cat since her old one died a few years back, she's not complaining about the new addition. "You... You go do something. I'll take care of this."

"She wants to name him Spunk."

She snorts. "I'll see if I can convince her otherwise. Sputnik might be doable." He sways in place when she kisses the side of his face. "Besides, consider this a trade-off. She'll stop asking for strange pets like sugar glider and skunks."

Leo sighs, leans forward to rest his chin on her shoulder. The cat is absolutely filthy, black and white fur matted and caked in dirt and what's probably garbage juice. It fucking reeked up his car, that's for sure. But Rachel looks so happy as she pets the cat's disgusting face, its purr rusty but loud.

Maybe the cat isn't such a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always very appreciative of your comments and kudos, so don't be shy about leaving either of those!
> 
> I have [my blog](http://iwillpooponthefloor.tumblr.com) on tumblr, if you'd like to check that out.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
